At my lowest points in this quit I used to think of situations that might crop up which would give me such a good excuse to smoke that nobody would think the worse of me for it. A bereavement seemed like the ultimate one. Not that I wished for it, but I can't deny I thought 'well that would be it, I'd smoke'.
Well, a few hours ago I found out that my brother died suddenly today, from a heart attack. My lovely, laughing, musical, comical, hard working (too hard working) big brother David, just 54, not overweight and never smoked. Just dropped dead in his office at the hospital where he is a nurse manager.
Tomorrow I'm off to see my mum, who is in shreds, and my other brother and sisters. We are all shocked and reeling as I'm sure you can imagine. An upsetting and stressful day lies ahead.
And the last thing, the very last thing that I would want to do now is smoke a cigarette. Risk my life, when life is so fragile? I'd have to be f***ing insane. I cannot think of a single way in which it would help me.
It's not much of an upside, needless to say. But it's good to know that I am past smoking to the extent that even this won't shake me.
If you pray, please offer one up for my brother and his wife, his two teenage daughters, and all of my family tonight.